As sure as spring follows winter, the Kentucky Derby follows the first of the NASCAR Sprint Cup races at Martinsville. And just as sure as that historic auto race draws rain to Henry County, so does the Derby bring rain to the Louisville area. Which brings this old dog to his point: I belong to the modified Descartes School of Philosophy – I complain, therefore I am – and believe you me, I am complaining.

First, there’s the rain. You folks in short track heaven are not the only ones to be inundated with liquid sunshine. If it rains any more here, and rain is predicted for tonight, I am severely tempted to build an ark. I can look out my front windows and still see the vestiges of the latest deluge – several small ponds that, were it any warmer, would be breeding mosquitoes by the millions. Last week, when the sun broke through the clouds for a microsecond of two, several of my soggy neighbors reported UFO sightings – “There was a blinding flash of light, and suddenly my face and shoulders felt warmer… Then it was gone.”

Adding insult to injury from all the rain is the ongoing political campaigning. Since the Democrats have yet to decide on a presidential candidate, folks in Kentuckiana, (As the Louisville metropolitan area is known in Kentucky – it is referred to as “Indiucky” north of the Ohio River) have had to endure the solicitations of Chelsea, Hillary, and Bill Clinton and to a somewhat lesser extent those of Barak Obama for what seems an eternity. Those usually meaningless late primaries in Kentucky and Indiana have suddenly become as important as the allegiance of the “super delegates.” Therefore, the name calling, the political rhetoric and promises are rolling higher than the Ohio River at flood stage. All of this reminds me of two of Will Rogers’ sayings – “I don’t belong to any organized political party – I’m a Democrat,” and “Democrats never agree on anything. If they did, they’d be called Republicans.”

Then there are the prices of gasoline. I continue to be amazed how gasoline and diesel prices can jump 35 cents a gallon in a nanosecond, but then take a month or two to drop 15 cents. Don’t know what you are paying in Henry County, but regular unleaded here is presently $3.45 and diesel $4.09 a gallon. I picked up my blood pressure medicine yesterday and it was $5 cheaper than last month. When I expressed gratitude for the decrease, the pharmacist said, “Now you can buy 1.35 gallons of gas.” I’m dancing… So far none of the candidates have had anything to say about the price of gasoline. You think maybe they don’t have to buy their own fuel? What I gather is that they are all in favor of “change,” but I am not sure what they plan on changing.

Even the start of the baseball season has been tainted this year, what with all the furor over human growth hormone, anabolic steroids, and other performance enhancing drugs. The high point of the House Oversight Committee – Roger Clemens and Brian McNamee hearings was the Congresswoman for North Carolina who observed that this particular committee was really charged with overseeing the trillions of dollars our federal government spends each year, not insuring that professional baseball was free of performance enhancing drugs. No one argues that drugs are bad, but come on folks – just how does this compare to the lives we are losing in Iraq and Afghanistan, the billions we are spending on those wars, the millions of Americans in danger of losing their homes, the lack of medical care and affordable medical insurance for a third of our population. Let the DEA handle drug abuse, and abuse is the operative word, in professional sports. There are far bigger problems for our legislators to address.

Well, enough complaining. The Chicago Cubs are about to take on the Pittsburg Pirates. I’m going to kick back and watch. Since it has been 100 years since the Cubs were in the World series, I’m fairly sure that their players must not have used too many performance enhancing drugs. In closing, I just wanted to say hello to all the fine folks in Henry County and remind you of what the late Jack Brickhouse (a long-time Cubs radio announcer) once said about the ill fated baby baseball bears – “Any team can have a bad century.”

Old Dr. Bob